


Quiet Moments

by tealbrigade



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, neil deserves a break dammit, pure fluff, soft andreil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 10:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29873271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealbrigade/pseuds/tealbrigade
Summary: Nostalgia after trauma can be confusing. Sometimes you just have to sit in the quiet and remind yourself you're still here.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	Quiet Moments

There’s a cat on his lap. 

Sir is kneading into the blanket thrown over Neil’s legs as he sits and drinks his tea. Coffee is all well and good—especially when shared with Andrew—but sometimes he feels nostalgic, and just wants a damn cup of earl grey to sip on. It’s one of those mornings. 

That nostalgia is...strange. It’s always strange to look back on old memories that, though tainted by something awful, are in and of themselves good. Earl grey tea. Seeing a famous city skyline for the first time. Street vendors and flipped directions on streets and foreign tongues chattering around the periphery. 

Neil sips his tea. 

Sir, having completed making biscuits for the time being, turns a couple of times and settles on his lap, flopping down with a huff and curling into a ball. He is warm, and soft, and slightly purring, and Neil takes a deep breath, committing this moment to memory. 

By now, there were hundreds like it. But every one seemed precious, not something to be taken for granted. 

There are some days when it’s hard not to dwell on everything that happened. The Ravens. Baltimore. Riko. His father. His mother. Some days he could swear his hands are still stained red with their blood, just as he wore the marks of their work on his body. Those days he sat with his back against the wall and one of Andrew’s knives in his hand until one of the cats came up and tried to sit on him and purr to make him feel better. Sometimes it did. Many times it didn’t. 

But then there are these kinds of days. The kind where the air is still, and fresh morning sunshine filters in through the bay window, and Sir is on his lap and King is perched over on top of the couch, blinking slowly. The kind where he can breathe, his heartbeat calm and steady, steam from his mug dancing languidly in the light. His phone, on the coffee table, lights up with a message from Matt, or maybe Allison or Nicky, and he doesn’t move to take it. His friends are there. They always will be; there’s no rush or desperation to soak up as much love as he can anymore. 

He’s not constantly waiting to run anymore. 

The door opens and Andrew walks in, a clatter as he drops his key on the little table over there and a click as he puts the locks back in place. He doesn’t say hello; he just gives Neil a look before going into the kitchen. Before long the smell of coffee is in the air, and Neil closes his eyes as he breathes it in. He feels settled and grounded and he’s still getting used to that, even after all this time. It’s not a bad feeling. 

Andrew settles in next to him, mug in hand, and Sir immediately abandons Neil’s lap for the new arrival. Neil just shakes his head with a smile. Andrew clinks his mug against Neil’s, meeting his eyes. 

Neil just smiles. 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little soft thing for the boys because I usually relate to Neil too much and was thinking about how some memories can still be good even when they're tangled up in a bunch of garbage. Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Find me over on [tumblr](https://tea-brigade.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/tealbrigade/) if you're so inclined :)


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